My Everything
by TheUn-POP-ableBubble
Summary: It was another one of those moments. Where Logan figured it all out, where Julian lay exposed, where Derek watched his friends fall apart. They were only lucky those moments never happened. Onesided Jogan fic, inspired by redqueenofprima.


**Author's Note: So here I go, surfing through my saved Word documents when this ficlet and others pop up - all nearly completed and all completely forgotten to my memory. So what did I do? Re-read them. Then kept writing when the story cut off. Cuz I just knew what happened next. So viola! Bibbity-bobbity-boo! Alakazam! I've got some newly completed stories. Huh.**

**This was inspired by a YouTube video made by the redqueenofprima. It's a Jogan vid, played to one of my favourite songs: "Love Song Requiem" by Trading Yesterday. My absolute favourite, heart-crushing part is the very beginning of her video where she has Julian confessing his feelings for Logan. But was he confessing _to _Logan. Or was anyone there at all? This stemmed from that thought.**

**Disclaimer: Nothing owned by me nor am I profiting off of this stealing of CP Coulter and redqueenofprima's most beautiful work.**

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><p><em>I know you love Kurt, and that it will always be Kurt.<br>But I love you.  
>You should know that.<em>

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><p>The stomping feet from the hallway easily warned the Stuarts studying in the common room that their ever-wondrous prefect was coming. On days before – when it was still new and frightening – they might have scampered off to their own rooms to continue their studies or pretended to busy themselves in the kitchen fixing coffee. Maybe they would have even looked up from their books and mugs, startled at the ruckus. But Logan's fits had come and gone so often that the only thing necessary to do in order to continue their work, was to turn up the volume on their individual musical devices. Besides, both Julian and Derek were present in the common room – one reading through an Entertainment Weekly magazine, the other studying three subjects at once – and they'd be able to either calm Logan from his rage or make him storm off elsewhere within a half hour.<p>

"Your Highness," drawled one brunette actor, as the double doors ferociously cast open, "what has you stomping about so rambunctiously this fine evening?"

Logan's glare was fierce as he proceeded towards his friends, whom had mysteriously been given a wide birth of free space from all the other students. "I. Was _not. _Stomping."

Julian theatrically gasped and frowned in mock sympathy. "Is that the word I used? Complete mistake, Highness, I knew you were only frolicking down the hallway." His sarcasm was rewarded with a firm knock to the head. Just to piss him off, Julian muttered another sarcastic remark, this one in protest against royals abusing subjects who were nothing but loyal and humble. Logan ignored him and fell into a seat across from his less-annoying friend. Derek's ink-smudged hands were barely visible amongst all the papers, textbooks, and school equipment.

"Knock it off, Jules," Derek only half-chided, his mind as buried in his work as his hands. "I need to catch up on all the work I've put off this week and you're not helping by pissing Logan off."

Aghast, the actor shot a finger towards the still-fuming prefect, "He's the one who decided to _storm_ all over his castle! Is _that_ helping you any?"

"No, but with your jabs he's only going to get angrier, which will mean taking more time to placate him and taking more time away from my _very important _work," seeming to finish a sentence in his notes, Derek put aside his pen and tiredly looked up, reaching for his near-empty coffee mug and swinging it back.

The sight of the weariness in Derek's face had Logan and Julian share a look of concern. They knew Derek had a full-time job keeping them in line but he had never had so much trouble dealing with it before. They discretely nodded to one another, as if some invisible truce had been agreed upon. Julian went back to his magazine and Logan fought to cool his anger some – it was the least they could do for the friend who did so much for them.

Looking disappointedly into his now-completely-empty cup, Derek asked, "So, Logan, what's got you so riled up tonight?"

Calmer now – why the hell had he gotten so upset in the first place? – Logan answered him, "This." Tossed onto the table from Logan's hand was an odd piece of paper. It was dry and curled over itself, edges and random spots burnt black with soot. It had obviously once been in a fire. His friends stared at him dumbly. Irritated, he commanded, "Read it."

Reaching across his notes, with eyebrows drawn together in curiosity, Derek took it in his hands, carefully unfurling the paper to read the only three, legible, short sentences of what looked to be a once long, handwritten letter: _'I know you love Kurt, and that it will always be Kurt. But I love you. You should know that._' Derek further noticed that it was adressed to '_My Everything_'

"…The hell?"

"Exactly!"

"Wait a – where did you even find this?"

"On my pillow, just now."

"Aw," Julian piped up, too curious for his own good, "did it spread ash all over your sheets, too?" Logan's glare only made Julian grin – like the cat that caught the canary. "What's on it that's got you so huffy, anyway?" He asked, knocking his chin towards the paper in Derek's hands.

"See for yourself." Derek passed it over, keeping a very close eye on Julian's expression as the actor grabbed for it. He didn't move much; eyebrows rising up in surprise and a widening of his previous catty grin. If anything, he looked mischievous rather than anxious – it wasn't conclusive to Derek whether he was the one who wrote it or not. But then again, who else would it have been?

"Why, Logan," Julian taunted, glancing up, "you've got yourself a little admirer!"

Logan gave Julian a look that could kill. "It's not funny, Julian."

Julian laughed, bringing out his shining, red-carpet smile. (The one that hid his misery from the world.) "Quite funny, I think. You're always the one doing the chasing and here's someone crazy enough to come after you. But," the Hollywood star rose, dodging a swipe from the blonde and the note trapped in his relaxed grip, "if you'd rather see it burn…" And then he moved into the kitchen, neither of his friends moving to stop him.

Unpocketing his old lighter – he'd never told Derek or Logan that he'd held onto it from that dark time years ago; sometimes even _he_ didn't know why he couldn't bear to toss it – Julian made quick work of the note, this time ensuring that it burned completely through rather than leaving it to the common room fireplace. He was lucky, really, that his signature at the bottom had at least been destroyed before _someone_ rescued the outpouring of his heart onto paper. That, surely, would have ruined him otherwise. It was bad enough that the address had survived.

Convinced that only ugly ash now lay in the sink, Julian ran the water, rinsing the remains of his late-night confession to further drive it away. Far away because it had been far too close. It was another one of those moments. The ones where Logan figured it all out, where Julian lay exposed, where Derek watched his friends fall apart. They were only lucky those moments never happened. He remained hunched over the counter for a while, finally moving to start up the coffee machine with the idea of preparing Derek another cup.

When he heard the fridge opening behind him, Julian mocked, "Taking on chimney sweeping duties, Bailey?"

The boy, frozen in his pursuit of apple juice by the ice in the actor's voice, stumbled and stammered a bit before sighing and muttered, "I just thought… it was about time he knew."

"You aren't allowed to be the judge of that," Julian spat, words now hot with molten fire.

Bravely, Bailey retorted, "Left to your judgement, he'll never know. And neither will you." With that, the fridge slammed shut and footsteps stormed out the kitchen.

Julian scoffed, his head hanging low. That was the whole point wasn't it? He didn't want to know. Rather, he was frightened to know – to know how Logan would react, how he would react, how their friendship would change, how his _whole life_ would change. Why couldn't Derek or Bailey understand that? Why did they insist of meddling in something that was better left untouched?

The ding of the machine in front of him was all that roused him from his sorry state. Cradling the hot mug close to his heart, Julian put on his smiling face again and once more braved social interaction. Predictably, Derek was grateful and Logan whined about favouritism before asking Julian his speculation on his apparent 'admirer'. Julian was careful to limit the conversation to freshmen, all the while ignoring the weight in his heart and lungs.

The pain was only further proof that Logan should never know.

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><p><em>And one breath,<br>one touch,  
>will be the end of me.<em>

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><p><strong>Author's Note: Yeah, turned out quite angsty for me. But Jogan - particularly canon Jogan - just <em>bleeds<em> of angst so it had to be done. But keep strong gondaliers!**

**LINKS! to those that inspired me: (simply remove the spaces when you copy 'n paste)  
>www. youtube. com watch?v=Y9J6j38_j0E  
>www. fan fiction. net ~cpcoulter**


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